


if i had two hearts

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Chess, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Holding Hands, M/M, Talking, spoilers for 5x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: When John hears about the tragedies at Alamance, he goes to River Run to offer his support.
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 12
Kudos: 146
Collections: Outlander Bingo Challenge





	if i had two hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the most recent episode of Outlander 5x06 (for the Jamie Fraser square on my bingo card)

As soon as he’d heard of the tragedy at Alamance, Grey had rushed to River Run, where he knew they’d go so Roger could receive proper care. He was stood in the foyer with Ulysses when Brianna came around the corner, her eyes widening and her shoulders falling upon meeting his gaze.

Brianna rushed forward with such speed it started him. She usually held herself together, tough as iron. It unsettled him more than he expected to see her like this. 

Grey folded Brianna into his arms and kissed the top of her head, as she cried into his chest. She was usually quite stoic, even in times of immense stress, but it seemed she had reached her limit.

“John. Oh, John. You’re here,” she said almost as if she was reassuring herself and didn’t intend for him to hear. 

“Yes, my dear,” Grey whispered into her curls. “I’m here. We’ll figure it out, all right? I’m here now.”

After a brief moment, Brianna pulled back, drawing in the sort of breath meant to steady a person. “Sorry,” she said looking up at him. “I… I don’t know what came over me.”

He smiled. “You need not apologize. Whatever you need right now, I’ll do my best to provide it.”

The thud of boots rang through River Run’s open foyer. He looked up. Jamie was standing before him. Blue ringed eyes, sunken in cheeks. The man looked exhausted. After everything he’d endured, Grey did not blame him.

“John?”Jamie blinked, his head tilting. “What are ye doing here?”

“Hello, Jamie. I hope I will not be an inconvenience, but I heard about what happened at Alamance with Roger Mackenzie and with your godfather. I thought that maybe you all could use the additional support.”

Jamie’s lips moved into a ghost of a smile. “Yer no an inconvenience, John. I’m grateful to ye that ye came.”

Brianna had gone off to take care of Jemmy, leaving Jamie and Grey alone. Wearily, Jamie led him upstairs to see Roger with Claire by his bedside. The man looked horrible. All black-and-blue on his face and neck, swollen and near unrecognizable. Grey had seen many horrific things in his life, but this still sent a particular shiver down his spine. 

He spoke with Claire about Roger’s condition. She was not optimistic and seemed just as tired and ragged at the edges as her husband and daughter. 

“I’d be happy to keep an eye on him,” Grey offered. “So you two can take some time.m together for yourselves. ”

Claire shook her head. “You don’t have to—”

“I insist.”

Jamie gave John a soft look, then escorted his wife from the bed chamber. For a while, Grey sat alone in the silence with only the pained and ragged breathing of Roger to keep him company. Eventually, Brianna joined him with Jeremiah sat on her hip. Brianna sat down at another chair by Roger’s bedside and looked down at her husband. Jeremiah squirmed in her lap. 

“I can hold him if you would like.”

Brianna offered him a small, tired flick of her lips, then held Jeremiah out to him. He sat the child on his lap, then looked down at him, stroking back the boy’s hair with his fingers. There was a universe where little Jeremiah would look all to the world like his son, where Brianna was his wife and maybe this awful tragedy never befell Roger MacKenzie. Did Brianna wish for that? That he had spared this, even if it had brought with it her own heartbreak and loss? He knew that if it were Jamie…

“He didn’t want this,” Brianna broke the quiet silence, staring down at her husband.

“Roger?”

“No,” she said. “I mean… he didn’t, but I was talking about Da. He tried to stop it, sent Roger to try to stop it. To convince Murtagh. He’s tired. I think we’re all tired, but we don’t have time to be. It’s just… it’s just starting.”

Grey was unsure what Brianna meant by all of that, except he did believe in how hard Jamie would’ve tried not to fight this fight. For Tryon. Against his own ken. The strength of that man, the resolve, it was often hard to even fathom.

Eventually, Claire returned. She ushered him away so she could privately do her healing duties, and Brianna took a sleeping Jemmy from where he was cradled in Grey’s arms. Feeling peckish, he wandered downstairs to the kitchens to pilfer a biscuit or two, maybe pour himself a glass of wine, when he was startled by the sight of Jamie Fraser taking up the vast majority of a small settee, just staring out at the wall.

Grey cleared his throat to alert the man of his presence. “Can I get you a glass of wine?” he asked.

Jamie nodded, but barely acknowledged him, still just staring into the nothingness. “Aye. Thank ye.”

“Of course.” Grey searched for and found a small cache of wine. Then, he uncorked a dusty bottle and poured them each a glass of the sweet-smelling red. Grey handed Jamie the glass. Neither of them said a word, but they watched each other. Looking for what? Grey didn’t know.

Jamie took a sip, then, staring down at his own glass said, “Would ye play a game of chess wi’ me?”

“Gladly.”

The game went on, as tonight they seemed equally matched, which meant that Jamie was far from at his best. Still, Grey could tell he was trying. His gaze focused intently on the match before him, like maybe if he stared hard enough at the pieces he could will away the rest of the world.

Jamie had one of his knights pinched between his fingers, poised over the chessboard, then his face fell inexplicably. He dropped the knight, knocking over several of the chess pieces.

Suddenly, the Scot’s big shoulders hulked over and he covered his face with one of his massive hands. The broken gasp of a sob escaped through spaces in his fingers, shocking Grey. Unsure, he stood up from his stool and went to sit beside Jamie on the settee, keeping a respectable distance. 

“Are you…” Grey couldn’t finish. He’d never seen Jamie cry. He’d seen him come close, but never. 

He peeked up over his hand with wet eyes and mumbled, “I miss him so much.”

The hurt in the man’s voice, in his countenance, shattered something inside Grey like a fragile tea cup. “Oh, Jamie.” He reached to lay a hand on Fraser’s but stopped short, remembering himself. 

“Ye can touch me. I willnae bite yer head off,” Jamie said softly. It sounded more like a request than permission.

Grey hesitated, but still placed his hand on Jamie’s large, warm one and squeezed. Jamie let him but then slipped his hand away. He thought he’d either done something wrong or that the moment was over, but then Jamie turned into Grey and did the most unexpected and startling thing of all. He grabbed Grey by the waistcoat and buried his face into his neck.

“It’s all… wrong,” Jamie mumbled against him. “How could I have done that? My own countrymen.”

Grey hated to hear the pain in Jamie’s words, the sound as if he were disgusted with himself. It wasn’t right. Jamie was a good man. The best he’d ever known. He would not, could not, allow such a man to speak ill of himself.

Nervously, he wrapped his arms around the much larger Jamie as best he could, keeping the man close to him. He smelled of sweat and wine and fresh river water. “Bree told me how hard you tried to stop it.”

“I tried to stop Culloden too.” Jamie let out a weak, sad laugh. “If only I could’ve.”

“I wish you could’ve too,” Grey said, thinking of Hector. “But you are not responsible for the fate of the entire world nor capable of taking care of it all.”

“Not the world. Not anymore. Just Murtagh and Claire and Bree and William and Roger and… you.” Jamie cast a glance up to Grey. Grey tucked a loose curl behind Jamie’s ear, still astonished he was being permitted this much contact.

Jamie continued, “Murtagh made a promise to my mother before she died. That he would always look after me, that he wouldna leave me and now… I’m no alone and yet I feel this absence. I failed him and I failed Roger. By failing Roger, I failed Bree.”

Jamie’s head was leaning against his own now, and when Grey spoke, the words were breathed into the man’s temple, “They are not solely your responsibility and you don’t have to carry the weight of caring for them on your own.”

“I didna ask ye to come.” Jamie sat up, not moving away completely, but he did pull back.

Grey’s stomach sank. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I hope I—“

“No,” Jamie interrupted. ‘I didna _have_ to ask ye to come. Ye kent that I needed ye to and ye came.” He took both Grey’s hands into his own. “Ye have always taken care of me, even when I didna deserve that care. Even when I was cruel to ye.” 

No response came to Grey’s mind. He remained there, stunned into silence.

Jamie went on, “And I ken ye dinna do it because ye think ye will have yer way wi’ me.” He smiled a genuine smile for the first time since Grey had arrived at River Run. It was a truly welcome sight. 

“Perhaps, sir,” Grey raised a risky eyebrow. “It’s because I think you may have your way with me.”

Jamie appeared unbothered by Grey’s nervous attempt to deflect from just how deeply he felt for this man. This man who was married and whose wife was no farther away than up the nearest staircase. “It is not.”

Apparently, that night, Grey’s deflection would not be left to stand. Jamie would strip off the cloak of this thing between them and lay it bare. If he had that courage, Grey could have it too.

“No, it isn’t,” he admitted.

Jamie carefully stroked his fingers over Grey’s thumb. He watched their touch instead of looking Grey in the eye. “I dinna ken how you love me when you receive nothing in return.”

“I have your friendship, don’t I? That is far from nothing.”

Jamie frowned. “Aye, but…”

Grey slipped one of his hands away and cupped Fraser’s cheek. “My dear Jamie, I think you know love well enough to know how.”

Jamie’s eyes shut and he leaned into Grey’s touch. “If I had two hearts—“

“You’d give them both to Claire.” It was the truth. Grey knew it and he’d accepted it long ago.

“Aye, then.” Jamie smiled. “But if I had a third.” 

That, Grey believed, the man truly meant. 


End file.
